Family Means No One Gets Left Behind
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: When Fleur takes him to shop for his robes for the wedding, it doesn't take long for him to flee. Or at least, try to. For Emma.


**Family Means No One Gets Left Behind**

Bill isn't trying to hide from his fiancée – he's really not. It's just that well, she dragged him on this shopping trip to get him, and he quotes, 'a proper formal robe for their wedding', because the one he had previously thought to use wasn't, apparently, good enough anymore.

Now, Bill loves Fleur, and he doesn't really have anything against shopping. Indeed, he does enjoy it from time to time – especially if it's for jewelry he knows his mother would hate.

However, he dares anyone to survive more than ten minutes in a room with Fleur when she's in such a perfectionist mode.

They had barely entered the shop that she had already selected half a dozen outfits for him to try, and by the time he had gotten to the fitting room, she had already been talking with the seamstress to find at least that many more.

So he had done the wise thing – he had fled as soon as he had managed.

"So, brother dear-"

"-would you mind telling us why your lovely fiancée came storming into our shop looking for you just a few minutes ago? After all-"

"-I'd swear you said you were just taking a stroll to the Alley-"

"-and wanted to see how our shop was doing," Fred's voice finishes. "How truly disappointing-"

"-heartbreaking even-"

"-a tragic blow to our self-esteem I'd say, George."

"Indeed Fred. Our own brother, using us as an excuse like this," George tuts.

"You didn't tell her I was here, did you?" Bill says, starting to panic.

"Of course not," Fred replies, throwing an arm around Bill's shoulder, a gesture echoed by George on his other side.

"Who do you take us for? We didn't say anything," George continues.

Bill breathes a sigh of relief, almost collapsing back on himself. "Thanks guys." He doesn't say he owes them one, even if he kind of does. Years of living with the twins and later, of hearing about their exploits through letters, have left him too cautious for that.

"Now what we'd really like to know," George asks in a conspiratorial tone, "is why you're running and hiding here instead of being out there with your lovely lady."

"We were shopping," Bill starts with a wince.

"Ah, say no more," Fred replies grandly. "We get it. Well, since this is for such a noble cause, feel free to remain here as long as you need."

"Thanks, but I couldn't trouble you so much. You said she came here, so I should probably be able to leave. I'll pick up a robe on my way home, and everything will be fine."

The twins exchange a mischievous look that Bill doesn't notice as he moves past them to exit into the shop proper, and from there, go into the street.

Or he would have, if he hadn't fond Fleur by the counter, waiting for him.

"You said she left!" Bill cries out, incensed.

"Did we?" Fred asks.

"You know Fred, I don't think we did. I think we said that she came here and asked us if we had seen you, and that we said nothing, in fact."

Glaring at his brothers, Bill moves to tell them off. Before he gets the chance though, he is interrupted by Fleur.

"So this is where you were hiding, then?"

Somehow, she sounds amused rather than the angry he was expecting.

"I wasn't hiding," Bill mutters inaudibly.

Alright, so maybe he had been hiding. But just a little. A tiny, tiny bit.

"I was, uhm, visiting the twins," he starts, louder, and suddenly inspiration strikes. "I remembered that they had told me that their outfits for the wedding were outdated too, and I thought they we could all, err, share the experience…" He trails off there, aware of the twin glares burning the back of his head.

Fleur smiles blindingly. "Marvelous! You know, I was going to suggest we take a break, but since you're obviously all feeling so passionate about this we should just go back right now."

"We'd, er, love to Fleur, but we-"

"-what my brother means is that-"

"-we do have our shop to run still-"

"-and can't leave unexpectedly like this-"

"-our customers, you see," Fred and George babble over each other.

"Nonsense," Fleur replies, "I'm sure your charming employee would be just fine keeping things running if you wanted to leave for a little while."

Something of Fleur's unwillingness to relent from this path she had chosen must have shown on her face because five minutes later, they're all on their way back to the outfitter, Fred and George leaving the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes in the competent hands of their trainee.

"We will get you for this," Fred whispers in Bill's ear as they walk, his tone as solemn as a tomb.

"Not if I get you first," Bill whispers back, and together they push the door to the boutique open, plastering wide, fake smiles on their faces.

Behind them, unnoticed, Fleur chats with the seamstress.

"So, how long do you think it'll take them to realize that I set them up?" Fleur ask conversationally.

"Well Miss, with how they're going at it, I'd say never. Trust me on this."

"You're probably right. Say, do you think you could find me some truly ridiculous clothes? I have a feeling their mother would like to see the pictures," Fleur muses.

"Certainly," the seamstress replies with a wink. "And if I can't, well, I can always transfigure the rags."

They laugh.

At the same time, the boys shiver, feeling like something terrible is about to happen.

But well – they're in a clothes shop. What's the worst that can happen?

 _(they never see the camera flash coming)_


End file.
